


MIA.

by TacoTuesday



Series: Saints Row: Boss Bunny. [6]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Angry Kissing, Bruises, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Missing Persons, Nudity, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TacoTuesday/pseuds/TacoTuesday
Summary: The door burst open, shaded eyes meeting hers as Boss wrapped her arms around herself. Johnny.The nudity wasn’t the issue, but the marks that sat on her skin were. He would see it as weakness, at not being able to defend herself as her jaw clenched, her eyes glancing away. “Shit.” He mumbled.TW: This mentions paedophiles, and some unsavoury things. Nothing but mentions, and some bodily harm.
Relationships: Female Boss (Saints Row)/Johnny Gat
Series: Saints Row: Boss Bunny. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935127
Kudos: 14





	MIA.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: This mentions paedophiles, and some unsavoury things. Nothing but mentions, and some bodily harm.

Boss had been MIA for a good three weeks before she came stumbling back into purgatory, blood coating almost every inch of her body as the clothes she wore hung from her figure. She looked tired, as though she lacked hours - almost days worth - of sleep. Saundi was the first to throw down the magazine she had been idly flicking through, jumping up from the sofa as the door slammed shut behind Boss. “Mother fucker!” She screamed out, anger radiating from her in vicious waves as dark eyes scowled out. 

She looked terrifying, like a serial killer straight from the flicks as Boss began to stalk through the safehouse, pulling various guns from god knows where. “Boss!” Shaundi called out, the wild brown turning to face her as a brow rose. 

“What?” Boss hissed, dumping down a grenade to the kitchen counter before rolling her shoulders. She needed tea, and something strong to go with it. 

“You’ve been gone for three weeks.” Shaundi muttered, as though her Boss didn’t seem to realise as she fisted through the cabinets, pulling out various mugs. Purple ceramic, deep bowl-like mugs, even some shaped in Genki cat’s head but not hers. 

Boss frowned. “Where’s my mug?” It wasn’t hard to miss, overly large from some sports brand in the UK. 

Shaundi blanched, eyes widening. “No one’s seen you since the Christmas party. We were about to call out a search party for you.” 

“Mug.” Boss muttered again, letting the words fly over her head as she turned around; taking in Shaundi fully. She seemed to be dressed to go out, her new hair pulled back into a tight ponytail as a purple corset wrapped around her waist. 

“On the drainer.” The drainer… Boss thought, frowning. That meant someone else used it. She turned, plucking it from the drainer before placing it down in front of the kettle, and hitting the switch. Just enough water in there. “Seriously, Boss. Answer me.” 

Her back straightened, head turning slightly. “What is there to answer, Shaundi? I was gone, that’s that.” No one needed to know about the drunken mess she was in front of Johnny, of the way Troy spilled her secrets to him, and let him know exactly Boss’ feelings for her second in command. 

“You were gone, and you didn’t tell anyone. I thought you were dead, or worse, being tortured by some fucks! Any day I was awaiting an ear, or a finger, or something in the post; you have no idea what you put us through. And then you turn up here, looking like that? You have a lot to answer for.” Guilt swarmed the Boss, but she couldn’t relent as she peeled open the bag concealing the tea bag, dumping it in. 

“I went on a mission, I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you about it.” She offered, biting down on puffy lips as the kettle began to rumble on the dock.

Shaundi scoffed. “That’s it! Johnny’s been losing his mind! Cops are down by half their numbers because every time someone even mentions your name, he has to release some kind of rage!” Johnny had been out killing cops? “Don’t even get me started on Pierce!” If it wasn’t about skipping photoshoots, it was the constant need for attention because Boss wasn’t there to sate him. He was driving her up the walls. 

“Look, Shaundi. I trust you all not to run this gang into the ground within a matter of weeks; that’s all it was - think of it as a holiday.” The kettle switch flicked, the rumbling coming to a stop. 

“God, you're so selfish. Do you have no idea of the consequences of your actions? This had gone beyond a simple street gang, this is now a multi-million corporation that had to keep their dirty work private. Do you know what that means?” Shaundi asked, Boss simply reaching for the kettle as she let Shaundi vent. “That means you can’t leave for three weeks, then return looking as though you’ve been knees deep in a slaughterhouse. Where were you?” 

Boss sighed, watching the deep red take to the crystal clear water. “Busy. Mission. I told you.” 

“Bullshit. No mission in this fucking company gets given to someone without it passing through someone else. Johnny, Pierce, nor I knew where you were. Now tell me the truth.” The truth, Boss thought, nodding her head. 

“I was getting my feelings out, okay?” Boss admitted. “I was getting my fucking feelings out of my system, because you’re damn right, I am selfish. Full of such a selfish fucking need, that my personal life is on the back burner, and for a few weeks, I needed to go back to myself.” Because that’s what Boss was. She was reckless, selfish, and she enjoyed killing. It made her feel powerful, like she had a reason to be there as she watched the light fade from whichever fucker got on the wrong side of her gun. 

Shaundi hesitated. “What feelings? I thought we were friends, we tell each other everything.” But there were some things Boss never told anyone about. Like the feelings she fucking harboured for Johnny, or the sandess every time a dead body of one of her Saints gets handed back to her. Boss was bad at feelings, she bottles and bottles it until something shakes it, and the lid comes flying off. Then once the initial explosion is over, and the same washes of feelings that she can handle, remains inside; she can go back to doing what she does best. Caring for the Saints. 

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes Shaundi, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And if that’s infiltrating a pedophile ring, becoming a stripper, and killing a bunch of CEOs, that’s what she’s going to do.” And what a rush it was doing it. 

“That’s what you were doing this whole time?” Shaundi asked, her anger deflating, and guilt settling inside her own body as she watched her friend. 

Boss nodded. “That’s what I was doing. Now, if you don’t mind I really need a shower.” She muttered as her hand came up, feeling at the dyed blonde locks caked thick in blood. She needed this off her, she’d already sat in it for three days just on the trip back from New York. No doubt she’d have to pay off a number of cops who come sniffing her way. 

Shaundi nodded. “Okay, just don’t do that kind of shit without telling me in future, okay?” 

She smiled. They couldn’t stay angry at each other for long. “Okay.” Tugging out the tea bag that was freshly stewing, she dumped it on the counter before leaving up the stairs; the guns needing to be cleaned later as she trailed up to her room. 

Her feet were caked thick in dirt and blood, Boss cringing as she stepped on her pricey white carpet before slipping inside her room; closing the door. Everything felt quiet, still as she padded in; the view of Stilwater she had in front of her just as beautiful as she remembered as lights glittered from the opposite buildings. She’d missed home, and she’d missed the people around her. Leaving the tea on her coaster, Boss slipped into her bathroom before glancing around. 

Nothing had been touched, everything exactly as she left it - from the spare bottles of peroxide to the makeup brushes and hair tools. Even the number of bobby pins that sat on the sink remained the same. Pursing her lips, she dared a glance at her reflection. 

Boss looked awful, she could admit that. What were once small roots, had turned into something uglier as the brown threatened the blonde with almost a good inch; the longer strands clumped up with dry, rusty blood as she turned her head left and right. It had even clung to her ears, but how… No, she wasn’t going to question it as the oversized shirt was dumped on the floor, blood clinging to the curves of her flesh, decorating her tattoos with ruddy fingers. 

Bruises and old cuts spattered her hips, from hands that were too daring, and a back hand she had to sit and take as she reached up to touch the break of skin at her bottom lip, but dark - more mottled, handprints sat along her throat. There was even a bruise forming over her left eye, a lucky shot by one of the CEOs. Boss had seen things, things that tainted her soul as her shoulders sagged, the weight of it all crashing on her. 

The trip hadn’t done much but feed the bloodlust that ravaged inside of her, the other - much smaller, and almost entirely non-existent side - had felt good at saving those girls, younger than she by almost ten years. 

Claw marks clung to her thighs, from hands that grasped at her legs once she had slashed their throats, others desperate to pull her down to the ground. She looked a mess, an entire mess. 

The door burst open, shaded eyes meeting hers as Boss wrapped her arms around herself. Johnny. 

The nudity wasn’t the issue, but the marks that sat on her skin were. He would see it as weakness, at not being able to defend herself as her jaw clenched, her eyes glancing away. “Shit.” He mumbled. 

“What are you doing here?” Boss asked as she turned from him completely, moving forward to turn on the shower. It was wide, enough for her to step in and almost close the glass if she hadn’t needed to jump back from the spray. 

“I saw the tea bag on the counter.” Johnny muttered back. “I thought I would come check.” Boss reached forward, fingers locking around the handle as she stretched. Her back protested, a sharp shot of a pain shooting up as a hiss slipped from her lips. “Let me.” Johnny reached past her, flicking it on as his front brushed her back; her skin prickling at the sensation. 

“Well, you’ve checked.” Boss said defensively, her eyes still unable to look into his as she gazed at the white tiles of her shower, at the water that was slowly running for the drain. 

Johnny huffed, gazing at her through the mirror. “Don’t give me that.” 

“Give you what?” She asked, feigning ignorance. 

He growled. “Three weeks, Boss. You’ve never been gone this long, and look at you. You look like you’ve been beat heavily.” How was she not seeing this shit? He could hardly work out the tattoo on her shoulder from the splattering of bruises that accumulated there. 

Boss shrugged. “I’ve had worse.” Canonisation was far worse, she could hardly move for a week after that and she had to pretend she was fine after they sent her on mission after mission. 

“This is different. This isn’t friendlies puttin’ their fuckin’ hands on you.” This looked… A feeling washed over Gat the longer he looked at them, at her pale skin inflicted by whatever had done this two her. She looked as though she’d taken three rounds of luchadores. 

“It was a mission Gat, you’re honestly telling me you haven’t walked out looking worse for wear?” She remembered his knee, at the risk it was if the doctors couldn’t help him; he may have never walked again. At least Boss got out with minor bodily harm, and not serious injuries that afflicted her life. 

She could see him shake his head, her foot stepping into the hot water as she disappeared beneath the stream. He knew he shouldn’t have looked, but her arms rose and the curves she had always hidden were only exaggerated. Boss was good looking, everyone had noticed, but not like this, not lacking any clothes at all. His brows rose as Johnny crossed his arms, leaning against the wall adjacent. 

His dark eyes hadn’t left her ass, that incredibly peachy ass… Jeans really did not do that thing justice as her fingers began to comb through the blonde strands, catching in the knots. Was that… No… Johnny thought, daring a glance closer. But it fuckin’ was. 

A delicate peach tattoo sat on the curve of her ass, the word honey written just beneath the cheek, where the thigh met her ass. He hadn’t seen anything as hot as that, who knew just a stupid tattoo could… Johnny readjusted himself, keeping his eyes forward. Fuckin’ tease, he thought; shaking his head; he couldn’t give her the satisfaction. What were they talking about? “Don’t fuckin’ do it again.” Johnny shouted over, hoping that was the right answer. 

“I’m the fucking Boss, Johnny. I can do what I want.” Boss quipped back, wanting to turn but keeping her front from him. 

“And I’m your second in command. You can’t do nothin’ without me; you fuckin’ understand?” Boss smirked, wanting to shake her head but keeping still. 

“You’re not my fucking dad, Johnny. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” No one does; the only person who did was six feet under, and cold as ice in his tomb. Her dad taught her to be strong, to not take no shit; and that’s exactly what Boss does. 

He scoffed. “No, I’m not your fuckin’ dad, Boss. But I,” He hesitated, the second to long as Boss’ head turned, the dark eyes peering through the glass. “I fuckin’ care about you.” He mumbled, eyes refusing to move from the mirror. 

Boss had wanted that, hadn’t she? She wanted Johnny to care about her? But did he care about her as a friend? Or as something more? “You care about me?” She asked, voice soft. 

“Shit, Bunny, yeah I fuckin’ care about you; are you nuts?” Johnny muttered as he let his guard down, his head turning to meet her eyes. She had swiped the glass, the fog cleared from her face but covering her body as she stepped out of the way of the waterfall as she really watched him. His brows weren’t dipped but in frustration, his eyes hidden from her but his jaw clenched; his hand reaching up to swipe back the dark strands. “You were gone for three weeks, after…” The store incident. “You honestly expect me not to fuckin’ care?” 

She shrugged. “I dunno, Johnny.” She admitted. 

Johnny reached forward, pushing on the door before reaching for her face and pulling her close. Steam rose around the pair, blinding them from whatever was around them. Wide, chocolatey eyes gazed up; wet, thick lashes framing them as Johnny pursed his lip. He wasn’t sure what to do, what he wanted to do as he held her cheeks, thumbs running along the moist flesh. 

God was she beautiful, even covered from head to toe in scratches and bruises. Three weeks ago, three whole weeks of thinking… Johnny’s head dropped, lips capturing hers as her own hands settled on his silk shirt, staining the fabric in droplets as their eyes fluttered close. He tried to express what three weeks of thinking was in gentle movements of his lips against hers; of the loss he felt at not having her around, at how sorry he was for not telling her sooner how he felt about her… 

But the frustration began to take over as a hand dropped, stepping into the shower and trapping her there as the flurry of water washed over their head, getting them soaked. His movements picked up, his hand grasping on her waist, pressing her closer to his body. She was an idiot, a complete fuckin’ idiot. But so was he. He let her go, he thought he couldn’t accept another, that he wasn’t; but this entire time, he’d simply overlooked her. 

He’d kissed her before, but not like this. He had taken her body, but not like this. This time, it wasn’t a fumble for a quick fuck; but for something more as Boss tugged him tighter to her. 

Johnny pulled back, eyes sealed shut but forehead meeting hers. The slick style he had always kept clung to his cheeks, her own hair pushed back from her face as their breaths mingled, the shower hitting them both. “Does this answer your fuckin’ question?” 

She nodded, reaching to grip his wrists. There was almost a whole foot difference between their height, Johnny’s strength unparalleled but he allowed her to move his arms, to settle them around her waist and push her closer into him. “Just fucking hold me, you dummy.”


End file.
